


Lovers

by Stormz369



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Crowley Has an Anxiety Disorder (Good Omens), Developing Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wingfic, Wings, crowley has snake features, mentions of previous rape, not explicit though, preening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-13 01:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormz369/pseuds/Stormz369
Summary: I started with the premise that Crowley is super casual about sex, but gets all sorts of flustered when it comes to making love, and how cute would that be right? And then it got a little dark... What can I say, the muses have spoken.





	1. A Drunken Rendezvous

Aziraphale was still reeling from the Apocalypse that Wasn't. It had been a little over a month, and he had yet to reopen the bookshop. Instead, he had spent his days reading, drinking tea, and contemplating his new situation. Now that everything was over, the Arrangement he had with a certain demon was superfluous. It's not like they had divine -or occult, as Crowley put it- jobs to do. But he still wanted to see him. He had gotten used to their routine. He missed their lunches, and feeding the ducks. He missed having a companion. But there was no pretext to be offered, and so his phone sat, ignored, on the desk. Until one evening, when the peace of his flat was broken by the shrill ringing.

"It's been weeks, Angel. You weren't going to call?" Crowley's disgruntled grumble sounded like music to the angel.

"Ah … I … I wasn't sure if you'd … Want me to." There was a moment's silence and he felt his cheeks flush bright red. He could hear the smirk on the demon's face.

"Don't you miss me, Angel?~" Aziraphale stuttered for a moment before Crowley cackled. "I'll be over in a few minutes, then."

And before Aziraphale knew it, Crowley had let himself into the flat above the store, and was sprawled across his couch. Quickly enough, they fell into their old habits, drinking as many bottles of wine as they pleased, and rambling about whatever silly things crossed their minds. Aziraphale had never realized how much he had come to depend on Crowley’s presence in his life. Hours passed, and he eventually noticed the clock. In his drunken state he became vaguely aware that they would normally be miracling themselves sober by now, not that that was an option with them trying to lay low. That was also when he realized that Crowley was leaning against him, which was rather unusual.

"C- Crowley?" he mumbled. The demon mumbled softly, shifting slightly to indicate that he was listening. "Ah … Perhaps we should stop. I- it's rather late. Unless you think … one small miracle?"

Crowley smirked through his drunken stupor. "Kicking me out already, Angel?"

"Of course not. Y- you're welcome to spend the night, if you like…" Aziraphale squirmed a shyly. “Shouldn’t have you on the street in this condition anyway…”

Crowley smirked. "Y- you wanna take me to bed, huh Angel?" he cackled softly, and Aziraphale couldn't tell if he was making a joke or not. He sputtered softly as Crowley laughed to himself. “No, no miracles … guess we’ve earned the hangovers…”

Aziraphale nodded, muttering a soft "quite right…" as he slowly pulled the demon to his feet. They stumbled toward the bedroom, Crowley muttering inaudibly the whole way.

Aziraphale helped his drunken companion remove his shoes and glasses before attempting to make his way back toward the living room, fully intending to sleep on his couch. Crowley however, had other plans. He smirked, pulling the angel down on top of him.

"Where're you going?" he chuckled. Aziraphale protested softly as the demon laid him on the bed, wrapping himself around the angel's soft torso.

"A- at least let me get changed, Crowley." after a bit more urging, Crowley groaned and detangled himself from Aziraphale, who quickly made his way into the restroom to change. When he returned in his matching pajama set, he flushed bright red. Crowley had squirmed out of his clothes, and was left tangled in the sheets in his underwear. It wasn’t as if they had never seen each other in some state of undress or another, but this felt different somehow. It had never happened in his own bed… 

“Crowley, you’re a mess.” He chuckled awkwardly, straightening the sheets over him. Crowley groaned softly, muttering a bit. When Aziraphale laid beside him, the demon scooted over to wrap himself around him. It was in times like this that Aziraphale was acutely aware of his Not Friend’s serpentine nature. No one else would be able to wrap themselves so thoroughly around him. It would have been a bit unsettling to anyone else, but Aziraphale found it oddly comforting to be so enveloped. At least, by Crowley. He suspected that he wouldn’t enjoy being touched so thoroughly by anyone else. He slowly slid an arm around the man, curling into him.


	2. Uncomfortable Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter references rape and abuse.

As Crowley woke up, he slowly remembered sleeping over at the angel’s flat. That explained the warmth he was clinging to. He slowly opened his eyes, coming face to face with the still sleeping angel. It was taking him longer than usual to understand what he was seeing, what with the hangover and all, so he only realized how close their faces were when the angel shifted and their lips brushed together. With a speed no human would be able to muster in that condition, Crowley squirmed backward, nearly falling off the bed. Aziraphale’s eyes shot open, and he groaned softly.

“Mh… good morning.” He whispered, rubbing his forehead. “Oh … oh my. Perhaps we should have risked the miracles…”

Crowley was still blushing as he cleared his throat. “Ah … yeah, maybe.” He grabbed his glasses and they slowly sat up, rubbing their heads. After a few minutes, Aziraphale slowly slid out of bed.

“I suppose I’ll change, and then some tea?” Crowley nodded slowly, finding his clothes.

They spent the morning resting after their night of indulgence. Aziraphale ate crepes and drank as much tea as possible. Crowley drank a bit, but otherwise lay immobile on the couch. When they finally started to feel a little more normal, they decided to go feed the ducks. Like old times. 

The walk there was uneventful, quiet even. This was the exact opposite of what either of them needed. Quiet walks let the thoughts in, and in Crowley's experience, thoughts were rarely a good thing. For instance, he couldn't stop thinking about how Aziraphale had let him spend the night, and what it meant. And he knew the angel would be thinking about the things he’d said throughout the night. He was right of course; Aziraphale couldn't stop thinking about Crowley's drunken ramblings. He was used to the demon's lewd suggestions, but he'd never been so upfront about it. Usually Crowley's suggestions came in the form of thinly veiled jokes and double entendres.

They sat on their bench, letting the awkward silence engulf them for a few minutes, until Aziraphale decided it was time to address the situation.

“So, … last night … well, ….”

Crowley sighed. “We were very drunk angel, don’t tell me you remember last night?”

“Some of it … You don’t … you said some things. Were you … that drunk?” He chuckled a bit. Crowley shrugged noncommittally. 

“I remember a bit. You’ve never complained before.” This left the angel a bit flushed.

“Y- yes well, … y- you were much more forward than usual … If I didn’t know better I’d rather think you weren’t joking this time.”

The demon smirked; “Who said I was ever joking?~” Aziraphale blushed brightly.

“W- Well of course you were. You’re a demon. I mean … it’s your job … Surely you’re not suggesting …” Aziraphale snuck a glance at the demon, instantly turning back toward the ducks when he saw the demon’s smirk.

Crowley leaned toward him, his lips almost brushing his ear as he whispered; “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you rather like the idea.~”

This left Aziraphale stuttering and awkwardly denying any interest in … well, that. Crowley simply stared the angel down, smirking. “What’s the matter, afraid you’d like it too much, Angel?~”

Aziraphale turned away, a shy pout across his lips. “Not at all. I am familiar with the act, and I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Wait … You’ve had sex before?” Crowley leaned back, tilting his head. “You?”

“Well, yes. Once.”

"Once?!?! With who?!?!?" It was Aziraphale's turn to smirk, just a bit.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Crowley scoffed, crossing his arms. "I don't care. Just surprised me. You're supposed to be the good one. I would assume She would disapprove."

Aziraphale chuckled. He briefly considered telling the demon the truth; that there had been no partner, just a slow night and some mild curiosity. He didn't see what the fuss about sex was for humans, he found it needlessly messy, but he guessed that they found the act comforting somehow. Their lives were so short after all.

Crowley frowned, watching the ducks. He'd had sex, of course. Sometimes it was part of the job, or made it easier to get a job done. But he always thought Aziraphale was above such things. Which left one option: Aziraphale had loved someone else at one point. Not that he's ever said he loved Crowley, but he thought what they had was … unique. Special, even. At least, it had always been special to him. A little piece of his life that nothing else could touch; that was just for him. Even when he wished he could just blow off the work he'd been tasked with, he could power through, ignore whatever he was doing, even pretend he wasn't there when he didn’t want to be, all by thinking about Aziraphale.

Aziraphale frowned. "Now really, you don't have to pout. It's not like you've never done it."

"Well, yeah, for work." Crowley frowned more. Aziraphale was suddenly staring at him.

"... They made you … for a job? H- how could … why ..." Crowley shrugged and looked away, wishing he hadn't mentioned it. This just seemed to upset the angel more; he gently took his hand, stroking his knuckles reassuringly.

"Crowley, I .... You should have told me, I would have…"

"What?" snapped the demon. "You would have what? Told Hell off? As if they'd listen to an Angel? Sent the humans on their way - get me in trouble with the boss? What? You couldn't have done anything, even if I wanted you to." Aziraphale flinched slightly before gently hugging him.

"... Did you … ever want to?"

Crowley frowned. "Want to what? … Be with humans? Seriously?" he scoffed, and Aziraphale's heart broke. Did Crowley have any experience with sex that he'd chosen for himself?

Aziraphale frowned and gently squeezed his hand. "You didn't deserve that… I … I wish I'd known…"

"I didn't want you to." Crowley grumbled curtly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Aziraphale considered a few things. Was this why Crowley teased him so much? Maybe it was sort of therapeutic for him? How much power did Hell actually have over him, before? He didn't know how to help him, but he so desperately wanted to.

"... Crowley, is there … can I do anything?"

"For G- S- Someone's sake, Angel, it's not like I'm a victim or something. I'm a demon." his voice was dripping venomously. "Besides, every one of them is being punished, or will be soon; what more do you want?"

"N- no, I didn't mean that, but Crowley… Crowley, you don't deserve..."

"Just ssstop, Angel!" he growled softly, biting his forked tongue. He hated when he lost control of his more serpentine features…

Aziraphale sighed and gently pulled him into a hug. Crowley tensed up for a moment before leaning in, letting him hug him. He didn’t reciprocate, but it was more contact than the two had ever had before, and he wasn’t pulling away. So Aziraphale just held him, trying to pour all his love and warmth into Crowley.

After a little while, Crowley shifted, and Aziraphale finally let him go. “... We should go. It’s too bright out here.” Crowley grumbled softly. Aziraphale pretended not to see the dampness under his eyes as they walked back to the bookstore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and special thanks to Katie for being my first reader/editor!


	3. Comfort and Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Over 300 reads in 2 days?!? I am overwhelmed! Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> Warning: This chapter deals with rape/abuse again.

A few days passed, and Aziraphale made an unexpected trip to Crowley’s flat. They hadn’t talked much since the incident in the park, and Aziraphale, being the gentle soul that he was, worried that he had upset the man. But also, he worried that maybe he shouldn't be left alone for too long after talking about something so serious. Crowley wasn’t exactly known for his coping skills, after all. He knocked on the door, a bottle of whiskey cradled in the crook of his arm. Crowley smiled softly, opening the door to let the angel in.

“Aziraphale~” He smirked. “Miss me already?~” Aziraphale chuckled softly, stepping inside.

"Aren't you glad to see me, my dear?" the angel smiled warmly, and Crowley chuckled.

"Always~" he didn't realize that he'd said it out loud, but Aziraphale's pink cheeks and bashful smile made him glad he had. Aziraphale let himself into the kitchen space. It went largely unused, save for storing a rather impressive collection of wine and Crowley's two glasses, which Aziraphale pulled down. After they'd each had a bit of the whiskey, and Crowley had more than his fair share, Aziraphale finally felt ready to discuss their last visit.

"Crowley, about last time …"

The man sighed. "Angel, I don't know what you expected. I'm a demon, it was my job to tempt the humans to sin. You knew this. Lust is a sin, and it was always one of the easier ones to fill my quota with. I don't know why you're making a big deal about this."

"Well, yes, but … my dear, you … I've never seen you seem … particularly unhappy about your job. Maybe not thrilled, of course, and there were days when … but certainly not … well … A- and I just worry, perhaps I missed something? Something you might have said, or did, a- and I could have helped you if I'd seen … I- I just feel so … awful, that they've done this to you, and I … I didn't notice."

Aziraphale was in tears by the end, agonizing over every little detail of their six thousand year friendship -because who was he kidding, they were most certainly friends-. How could he have missed the signs? What kind of friend was he, and how could he claim to care about Crowley if he didn't even notice that he was in pain?!?! It was his job to help people, how many had suffered needlessly because he couldn't even recognize signs of abuse in someone he supposedly knew better than anyone else??? These thoughts got louder and more overwhelming until it took everything in him to focus on listening for Crowley’s response.

Crowley, meanwhile, had stopped breathing about halfway through Aziraphale's speech. He refused to cry in front of his Angel, again. He was supposed to be strong. Aziraphale waited for him to say something, anything. He fully expected Crowley to be furious with him. To yell at him, or tell him to leave, or something! But it never came, and he took his silence to mean that he had in fact let Crowley down, that he should have picked up on something, and he should have been there for him.

This thought broke Aziraphale, and he sobbed violently, pulling him into a protective embrace. He tried desperately to apologize, to assure him that he would be there from now on, but words refused to come together in his mouth, and only unintelligible whimpers and choking sounds escaped.

In the back of his mind, Crowley found it ironic that the Angel had clearly visited with the intention of comforting him, and instead he was the one doing the comforting. Ironic, but not surprising. Aziraphale was always too kind hearted and gentle for his own good. He was often more distraught over people's pain than the person actually affected by it. When his mind caught up to what was happening he gently hushed the sobbing Angel, pulling him carefully into his lap.

"Aziraphale, don't do that. J- just take a deep breath for me … there's a good boy." he murmured to the angel as he shakily gasped for breath. "You didn't miss anything, Angel. Don't … you know, don't blame yourself… it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?!?!" Aziraphale stared at him.

"No, it'ss not." Crowley seemed so sure, but Aziraphale was certain that his calm response was trained into him. God only knew how much trauma the poor dear was suppressing … 

Crowley, to his own mind at least, was not so much suppressing trauma as he was focused on the more pressing matter, which was the sorrowful Angel in his lap. There was always something more important to think of, usually involving Aziraphale; and if that kept him from ever having to address the parts of his job that bothered him, then all the better.

He sighed, gently stroking his back. "Just breath, Angel." Aziraphale sniffled softly, he could hear the strain in the demon's voice.

"I… I just wish I'd been able to help you… you deserve so much better."

Crowley hissed softly, trembling with the effort of controlling his emotions. He looked off to the side as Aziraphale gently cupped his cheek, stroking his hair. At his touch, small scales began surfacing along Crowley's neck and arms.

"D- damn it…" Crowley muttered, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. His thin, forked tongue slipped between his teeth and he bit down, growling at it. Aziraphale slipped his glasses off, setting them aside. His lips fluttered across the demon's face, and Crowley lost it. The angel stroked his hair, pressing gentle kisses all over his face. 

They sat like that for a while, Aziraphale whispering encouragingly while Crowley hissed and tried to stop crying. His body trembled as he clung to his angel. Aziraphale didn't even mind the sharp nails digging into his sides. He just wanted to make Crowley's pain go away, whatever that meant. 

"You poor dear~ you deserved so much better … you deserve to be loved, they should never have used you like that …" Crowley shuddered, whining softly.

"D- don't … just ssstop … I'm not … It doesn’t matter ..."

Aziraphale gently pressed a finger over his lips, shushing him gently. "You are so worthy of love, my dear. And I'm going to say it until my words out number those who have ever tried to convince you otherwise. You. Deserve. Love." he kissed his forehead again, stroking his hair.

Crowley eventually ended up laying on the couch, his head in Aziraphale's lap. The Angel stroked his hair gently, whispering kindly to him. He periodically sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. He felt awful; he was not nice, or kind, or lovely, or handsome, or anything else Aziraphale was going on about. And he was most certainly not deserving of love. He felt like a fraud every time Aziraphale said it. But … every word from his angel left a warm feeling in his chest and stomach, and as much as he hated it, he wanted more. Aziraphale's hand in his hair left tingles all along his scalp, eliciting a soft moan from Crowley's throat.

He blushed brightly, slapping a hand over his face. Aziraphale smiled softly, running his hand through his hair.

"That good, dearest?~"

Crowley glared feebly up at him. "Shut up! I am the Serpent of Eden, not ssssome …. Some kind of pet you can … tease." Aziraphale smiled gently. Grumpy Crowley was better than Depressed Crowley.

"Never, dearest. I wouldn't dream of it."

"Better not … I'm not someone to be trifled with … I'm a demon; dangerous, unforgivable."

Aziraphale smiled softly, holding back a chuckle. "I know, Crowley. You're a terribly scary demon.~ But not to me." with that, he returned to stroking his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Katie for being my editor/moral support!


	4. The Reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! The response to this has been overwhelming! Thank you all so much! Writing this has been so great for my mental health, and everyone's support has just been incredible! Thank you all for reading, for the kudos and the comments!

Aziraphale didn't leave Crowley's side for a week after that. It was kind of nice, having the angel around. Nice, but suspicious. It almost felt … domestic. Particularly when Crowley began finding bits of Aziraphale's things -mostly books, and some paperwork, but a few clothing items as well- in every room of the flat. It was almost like he was bringing his work there, so he didn't have to leave.

Crowley temporarily opted to ignore it, on the off chance that mentioning these things would send the angel running again. He did have a history of being rather flighty when it came to spending time with his demonic counterpart. Crowley found the whole thing somewhat amusing actually, despite the fact that it set him on edge. He assumed Aziraphale was planning something, and he did not want to have another discussion about his crappy ex-job.

One morning, Crowley woke up to find Aziraphale had stocked his kitchen with more food than either of them would need for days, and was cooking. He's cooked a bit before, but there was never this much food in the house. His eyes narrowed, and he looked around, quickly spotting a box. Aziraphale had brought his dishes over. That was it. The angel was definitely up to something. 

"... What are you doing?" Crowley glared suspiciously from the doorway. Aziraphale jumped slightly at the sudden company and smiled over his shoulder.

"Making breakfast. Did you want to try some?"

"No, I mean … Why are you still here? You get rid of the shop or something? Do you live here now?" he chuckled drying.

Aziraphale smiled, shaking his head. "Of course not, you know I love my shop. But that doesn't mean I have to spend every day there, now does it?"

"So you're just making yourself at home?" Crowley raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Are we married or something?"

Aziraphale blushed so strongly his ears changed color. It was good to hear Crowley's sense of humor had returned, but that was rather unexpected.

"O- of course not! … unless you'd prefer it that way… I suppose we could … "

Crowley would have had a heart attack, if he had a normal human heart. "... Did you just say ..."

"Well, yes... It's not like the head offices would notice, or care so much anymore, right? As long as we aren't doing too many frivolous miracles, they seem to stay out of our hair." he turned back to his breakfast, nudging a few sausages across the pan.

"... A few weeks ago you denied being my friend, now you want to get married?!?" Crowley ripped his glasses off to stare the angel down properly.

Aziraphale simply chuckled. "You're the one who mentioned marriage, dear. I'm perfectly content as we are. Labels are such a human concept, I don't really see the need, but if you'd like one you can certainly pick a label for us. I'm sure anything you choose will be fine." Crowley promptly collapsed into a seat at the table.

"... You … we … HOW LONG?!?!" Aziraphale frowned, turning to face him properly.

"How long?"

"I… when did this start? You've always pushed me away!"

"Well, the head offices would have had a field day. And as you once said, your lot don't send rude notes. I don't even want to know what Gabriel would have done if he knew." he frowned. "... Well, I couldn't have either side trying to discorporate you, now could I?" Crowley was absolutely flabbergasted.

".... WHAT THE FUCK, ANGEL?!? Y- YOU WERE PROTECTING ME?!!??!" Aziraphale sighed at this. "SINCE WHEN?!?!?"

"It's very early for this sort of volume, Crowley. If you please."

Crowley took a few deep breaths. "... When did this start, Angel?"

"Oh, I've cared for you very nearly since the beginning. But I knew I loved you in the church; you remember?" Aziraphale smiled fondly. "You were just so very kind to me that night, remembering my books and all. I was positively smitten. I thought for sure you could tell; I would have done anything you asked of me that night, damn the consequences."

Crowley flushed and hissed, whether from anger or the warmth pooling in his stomach, he didn't know. He could have had his angel decades ago?!?! How was he supposed to respond to that? He stuttered for a moment before landing rather inarticulately on; 

"... I'm not kind."

"You've always been kind to me, dear. There isn't really another word for how you've taken care of me, even when I was less than appreciative. You'll simply have to accept it, dear; you're kind, and generous, and absolutely lovely.~" Crowley growled softly at this, trying -but failing- to ignore the warmth taking over his body.

"Not kind. I'm not any of that."

Aziraphale sat across from him, setting his breakfast between them. He chuckled softly at Crowley's expression.

"Darling, you don't have to deny it so vehemently. No one will rise out of the pits to punish you for being good. Not anymore." Crowley blushed brightly at that, staring at the table while Aziraphale ate. He barely noticed when Aziraphale started talking again.

"... Crowley? Crowley, dear? Still with me?" his head snapped up.

"Sorry, what?"

Aziraphale smiled. "I was asking if there was a label you liked, since you brought it up."

"O- oh … no, I suppose not … d- did you?"

Aziraphale hummed softly. "I suppose we're not married, in the traditional sense. Partners is a bit ambiguous, and if we're going to label this thing, we might as well be explicit … Boyfriends sounds a bit … juvenile. Lovers is a bit old fashioned, but I rather like that about it … I'm really not sure. What do you think?" Crowley began coughing violently at the word lovers. "Alright there, dear?" he nodded, staring Aziraphale down. 

Lovers. That didn't sound too bad. His lips curled into a smirk at the thought of all that word suggested. Images flashed through his mind, mostly ones he was sure the angel had not considered. But Aziraphale had been the one to suggest it, and who was he to deny his angel literally anything? Especially now that he knew he wasn't alone in his feelings.

"You want to be my … lover?" he practically purred the word, leaving Aziraphale rather flustered.

"I mean … it's appropriate, isn't it?" He was suddenly rather bashful, moving his eggs around his plate.

Crowley chuckled, cupping his cheek with delicate fingertips. "Alright, my Angel~ Lovers it is.~"

The word left an odd feeling in his mouth, somehow it seemed both divine and deliciously profane. He was already planning some rather beautifully sinful things to do with that word on his tongue. After all, he might as well give Aziraphale everything it had to offer. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my best friend, first reader, and editor; Katie! <3


	5. Monday

Crowley woke up alone in his flat for the first time in a week. He sighed softly and pulled Aziraphale’s pillow closer, burying his face into the scent. They had agreed that it made more sense for them to spend most of their time at the bookshop rather than Crowley’s flat; they wanted to spend as much time together as possible, and what with Aziraphale having the shop and Crowley not being particularly attached to his flat, he was happy to move some of his things over. Aziraphale thus had gone home to prepare the place. What this meant, Crowley could only guess at. Nevertheless, he began packing up some clothes to bring to the shop with him, and waited for Aziraphale to call - as he’d promised to wait until the angel said everything was ready.

By dinner time, he was getting a bit restless. What could possibly be taking so damn long? It’s not like he needed all that much in the first place. He began pacing around the room, getting more and more restless as time went on. Finally, as it was getting dark, the phone rang. He frantically ran across the room and dove across his desk for it.

“Angel?”

Aziraphale chuckled softly; “Of course. Everything’s ready now, so if you’re all packed…”

“I’ll be there in 2 minutes.” He hung up and threw his bag over his shoulder and rushed for the Bentley. As per usual, he drove like a maniac through the city.

Crowley sat in the car in front of the shop for a moment, taking deep -strictly speaking unnecessary- breaths, hoping to calm himself. He slid out of the car, took another breath, and went to knock, but the door flew open on its own. Looking around, he stepped inside and walked through the candlelit shop, upstairs, and toward the dining room. 

“Angel? I’m here.” He called out, but was met with silence. He looked around, finding the flat much tidier than it had ever been before. Still filled to the brim with more books and furniture than should be able to fit in such a small space, but everything seemed so much neater than usual. And he was certain there hadn’t been a rooftop balcony before.

He made his way toward the kitchen. stopping at the doorway. He could feel himself blushing at the sight before him; there was a vase on the table, bursting with a rainbow of flowers. Aziraphale had selected each flower very carefully; remembering how much Crowley knew about plant language. ‘Eternal love’, ‘joy’, ‘faithfulness’, ‘new beginnings’, ‘passion’, ‘devotion’. The bouquet was screaming Aziraphale’s love to Crowley.

The demon looked around the kitchen, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Angel?”

Suddenly, Crowley was being pulled onto the couch by his waist. Aziraphale grinned, holding him in a tight embrace, and Crowley couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this cared for. He decided quickly that he probably never had.

"Welcome home, dearest~" Aziraphale whispered. Crowley grinned, turning to face him properly.

"Home. I like the sound of that.~" He purred.

Aziraphale was beaming. He cupped his cheeks, looking at Crowley’s lips shyly. He looked up at him through his eyelashes, then back to his lips, almost like he was asking permission. Crowley smirked a bit and pressed their lips together, careful to be very gentle with the angel. He was determined not to move too fast this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to Katie for pointing out the obvious to me. We all have her to thank for the existence of a first kiss scene in this fic, because I was excited about other things to come.


	6. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Everyone's support has been so incredible! Thank you all for your patience as I get these chapters out, and as always huge thanks to Katie for everything you do! <3

Crowley woke up, for the first time in his long life, to find Aziraphale snuggled into him. Usually, the angel used night time to read, or catch up on work. This morning he was laying beside him, arms wrapped around him as he watched him sleep. The soft smile on his face took Crowley's breath away. It was much too early for anything that beautiful. 

"Good morning~" Aziraphale smiled softly, brushing his hair out of his face. Crowley flushed slightly and cleared his throat. This being entirely new territory, he had no idea what to do next.

"Morning… breakfast then?" he shot up to start cooking. While he rarely ate, he had developed a talent for cooking - hoping he would one day have an excuse to show off for his angel.

Aziraphale followed him into the kitchen and watched him in shock. Crowley gestured for him to sit, and so he did. When he set his plate in front of him, the angel sort of shimmied in his seat.

"My favorite! Thank you, dearest!" he grinned, kissing his cheek. Crowley flushed, muttered a soft; "it's nothing…" and sat across from him. Aziraphale dug in and instantly began making noises that made the demon's ears pink.

"Absolutely scrumptious! When did you learn to cook?"

Crowley shrugged. "A while ago." Aziraphale beamed, continuing to make his appreciative noises. "... Are you going to open the shop today?"

Aziraphale daintily dabbed at his lips. "I was actually thinking about leaving it for another day … perhaps we could …"

"... We could what?"

"Well … it's been an awfully long time since I've let my wings out for more than a few minutes. A- and yours are just so lovely, so … I was thinking … If you'd like…" the angel flushed.

Crowley blinked a few times. "I… yeah, we could do that." he flushed a bit. Aziraphale smiled softly, gesturing for him to go first. He sighed and rolled his shoulders, releasing them.

Aziraphale watched, enraptured as Crowley's wings filled the space. They seemed to command attention, the way they so naturally flexed and shifted to fill his entire field of vision. He had never seen this particular wing design on anyone Upstairs, but he instinctively knew they were special. God had given each group of angels a particular wing design, and later had shared them with the birds that would populate the world - which most angel's did not like to be reminded of. Aziraphale was the noted exception to this; Principality wings had been shared with Guinea Fowl, and Aziraphale personally thought was a good match, as they were known for being very protective of their young. He understood that the Almighty had intended it as a compliment. At least, he assumed so. These wings though … these were different. There was no bird paired with these wings. These marked their owner as one of the most beloved, the most important; Crowley had been someone special to God before his Fall.

He stepped forward slowly, and hesitantly reached toward him. Crowley looked at his hands, letting him bury his hands in the mass of feathers. Aziraphale sighed softly, a content little wiggle building in his hips as he stroked down the length of his wing. He smiled and sat across Crowley's lap, making the demon jump slightly, ravishing attention on the raven black feathers. Crowley squirmed a bit. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist and nuzzled into his neck, unable to stop the moan that bubbled out of him.

"Ah … what about yours?" his fingers slid up the angel's back. Aziraphale chuckled, letting his wings stretch out into the world before tucking them against his back to stay out of the way while he preened his lover's. He wanted to be able to touch every inch of his exquisite wings.

Now, it is important to note that preening is not sexual, and Aziraphale was completely aware of this. Angels periodically preened their closer compatriots, as it became necessary. In the past, when things were a bit more relaxed Upstairs, they'd even had semi-regular group preening sessions. But that was when they regularly used their wings. On earth, they usually existed in a sort of pocket universe. And the relief of releasing their wings was rather overwhelming; preening even more so. What's more, their wings were very sensitive, always had been, but more so since they began hiding them. Yes, preening was decidedly not sexual. But that didn't change the fact that Aziraphale felt somehow … naughty, touching Crowley like this. They had never done this for each other, after all. It was a type of closeness that was unprecedented for them.

Crowley knew that preening was not meant to be sexual. But it felt wonderful, having his angel's fingers glide through his feathers, straightening and cleaning them methodically. He slipped his hand into the expanse of white fluff on Aziraphale's back, purring softly at the feeling. It wasn't sexual, but he didn’t care, and soon enough he was enjoying some rather breathy sounds from Aziraphale.

That afternoon they curled up on the couch, Crowley's wings wrapped around his angel like a blanket. They of course had not gone any further than preening, they had only been lovers for two days, and that was a bit fast even for Crowley. But he was struck by how comfortable it all was. They had so rarely touched before, but now Aziraphale was more than happy to spend hours engulfed in his arms, fingers buried in his onyx feathers. He sighed softly, kissing the angel's forehead. His memories from before the Fall were a bit hazy, he remembered who he had been, the things he had done as an angel, all that was simple, but it was impossible to remember how he had felt up there. He assumed it had to do with the loss of Her Grace, because it all felt so hollow when he thought about it. But none of that mattered anymore, he was certain that it had all been worth it, because it had led him here. For the first time in millennia, he was completely at peace with himself, and he slowly drifted off, Aziraphale’s fingers running through his feathers.


	7. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's continued support is quite simply overwhelming! Thank you all for reading, kudos-ing, and commenting!

Wednesday morning Aziraphale finally reopened the bookstore. Crowley slipped out of bed in the late morning and stumbled down the stairs. He fumbled for his glasses when he realized there were customers mulling about, staring at the floor awkwardly. Aziraphale looked up from his desk and smiled softly;

"Ah, good morning dearest~" he leaned forward and pulled him into a kiss. "Sleep well?"

Crowley nodded, humming softly. "Hungry?"

Aziraphale smiled. "There is a little cafe at the end of the block, I could close up for an hour or two."

"Nah, I'll bring it over." He kissed the angel's forehead.

After a quick breakfast, Crowley ran back to his flat with a more complete list of the things he would need. He had been so excited before, he hadn't really been paying attention to what he was packing. As such, he only had the one pair of jeans.

Crowley sauntered into the bedroom, list in hand, but before he could make his way to the closet, he saw something out of place. There was a piece of paper on the bed. He glowered suspiciously, thinking someone Down Stairs might have sent it. If they had found out … the thought was too disturbing to complete. He hesitantly leaned forward to see it better, and when he saw Aziraphale’s flowing handwriting his shoulders unclenched and he smiled.

He sat on the bed, squinting to read the note - while he could read, it was a little difficult, considering that snake eyes are not designed for human writing. It took him a few minutes to understand what he was looking at; Aziraphale had written a sonnet. And by the looks of the paper, it had been sitting abandoned in his desk or on a shelf somewhere, for centuries. A giggle managed to bubble out of him as he held it up. He leaned back on the silk sheets, carefully reading each word.

_Though my Lord command it not be_  
_My heart refuse the call divine._  
_For I may love mine enemy_  
_I dare to build this shrine;_

_A monument to your nobility_  
_Though you deny it so._  
_Resolute, the facade of hostility_  
_Unspoken, all for show._

_Your kindness, unknown to me_  
_There is none among my kin._  
_I much prefer your company_  
_This is my dearest sin._

_There is no fear within my soul_  
_My very being, you make whole._  


__

__

__

__

__

__

_ _Almost an hour passed, he’d carefully read each word over and over, and he jolted up, remembering what he was supposed to be doing. He frantically began throwing things in a bag, not caring what it was. He just wanted to get back to the shop. When he got there he realized he had no idea what to say to the angel, and he doubted he'd even be able to look him in the eye. He took a deep breath to steady himself and threw the door open, quickly pulling his angel into a tight embrace. Aziraphale stuttered a bit as Crowley kissed down his jaw, to the astonishment of the few people in the store._ _

_ _Aziraphale eventually managed to gather his wits, hands raising to cup his elbows. "Dear boy, wh- what's gotten into you?"_ _

_ _"As if you don't know, you sentimental old sap~" Crowley purred in his ear. The would-be customers rather quickly escaped the intimate moment, preferring the cold of the street, which left Aziraphale chuckling._ _

_ _"That's one way to empty the shop I suppose…."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got a tumblr (I know, I'm super late to the party). Feel free to hit me up on there! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stormz-of-fire


	8. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee, wow, wow!! You guys have been so incredibly supportive! Thank you all for reading, for your comments (which always absolutely make my day!) and for all the kudos! I honestly didn't think this would be something anyone else would care about, but you've all been so incredible!

Thursday was spent in the bookshop. It was a beautiful day, and there were more shoppers than usual, mostly milling about. Aziraphale was a bit agitated with all these people filtering through the store. So many sticky fingers, all touching and rifling… it made him anxious. Crowley frowned slightly, he hated to see the angel so concerned, even if he found that whole thing a bit silly. Early in the morning, he found himself stalking a small group of teens through the shelves.

They were muttering to each other as they picked things up. Nothing they touched went back on the correct shelf, and they were making Aziraphale sweat. He hated them. How dare they upset his angel? After a while, they had a few books in hand and they tried to find Aziraphale to check out, but before they could take more than ten steps toward him Crowley was looming over them.

"Hello … children." They looked up at him, taking a few steps back.

"... Hello. Can we check out with you?" The one carrying the books spoke up.

"What do you have there?" Crowley took the books, tutting softly as he read the titles. "What could you possibly want with these?"

"We're getting a gift for our professor. She's retiring this year, and -"

Crowley cut the girl off with a rude laugh. "Trying to score brownie points then. You really think that will work?" He stared them down, using just a little bit of his demonic power to plant the seeds of doubt in them.

The teens quickly made an excuse to leave, the door slamming shut on their heels. Aziraphale rushed over and took the offered books from Crowley's hands.

"That was rather rude… And you really shouldn't have spent the energy on that..." he mumbled, making sure the books were undamaged.

Crowley smirked. "Should I call them back?" Aziraphale flashed him a look that made the demon laugh. "That's what I thought."

Aziraphale smiled softly and kissed his cheek, muttering a soft; "Thank you, dear boy~"

He lovingly reshelved the books, delicately swiping some imagined dust off the covers. Crowley couldn't help but admire the contented little wiggle Aziraphale did when they were each back in their place.

Crowley continued to lurk throughout the store, discreetly discouraging customers. Eventually he got bored and offered to bring the angel some lunch. When he returned, Aziraphale was happily chatting with an older woman. As he opened the door, she turned and gasped softly.

"Ah! At long last, this must be your Mr. Crowley!" She shakily reached out to grasp his hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, dear! Mr. Fell simply never stops talking about you!"

Crowley blinked a few times, looking over to Aziraphale. The angel had gone tomato red, smiling a sheepish little grin.

Crowley blinked a few times and shook her hand gently; "It's nice to meet you too, … Mrs?"

"Huntington, dear. Ah, I can't believe I'm finally meeting you after all these years! Honestly, I was starting to wonder if you were really real, or if dear Mr. Fell had just imagined the perfect gentleman up for himself."

Aziraphale cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ah, yes, well, here he is. And we’re having lunch, so I really must be closing up for the afternoon. I will see you another time, Mrs. Huntington." He quickly ushered the woman out, flushing. The lock snapped into place as he turned to face the demon.

Crowley smirked a bit. "Been talking about me with the local knitting club, have we?"

"Oh, you hush!" Aziraphale gently smacked his arm, taking the bag with his lunch. "She's a dear old thing."

Crowley chuckled, throwing himself across the couch to watch Aziraphale eat. The angel laid everything out just so before tucking in with a happy little wiggle.

After his lunch, Aziraphale reopened. Throughout the day various browsers -not customers, as they all seemed to know better than to try to take anything- filtered through the doors. A young couple with a toddler, who seemed to think of the angel as a sort of uncle, stopped by to chat about a restaurant he had recommended to them. A teenage girl came by to show him her history essay; he'd let her read the books he had on the topic, and he was thrilled to see she'd gotten an A on the paper. The owner of his favorite bakery stopped in with a sample of his newest recipe. Without fail, Aziraphale beamed, quickly introducing each of them to "my beloved, Crowley~" and Crowley stared at the ground to hide his blush.

The young couple grinned, shaking his hand, and commenting on how Aziraphale had told them so very much. Crowley blinked a few times at that, stuttering awkwardly. The teenager laughed softly, saying she had wondered when she's finally meet him. The baker whistled softly, shaking his hand, and turned to Aziraphale with a; "No wonder you've been keeping him all to yourself." Crowley coughed violently, trying not to laugh at the strained face Aziraphale made at that. It hadn’t occurred to him that Aziraphale would have these friendships with his not-customers, let alone have told so many people about him. It was all a bit overwhelming, if he were to be honest, which he most certainly would not be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Katie for being the best friend anyone could ever have, and for introducing me to this incredible fandom! I've absolutely lost my mind, but it's so worth it! <3


	9. Friday

Crowley woke slowly, curled up on his side. He brushed the hair out of his face, groaning softly.

"Mhh … Angel?" He looked around the room, blinking heavily. A slip of paper on the bedside table caught his eye.

_Dearest Crowley,_  
_My apologies for leaving while you slept, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn't want to wake you. One of my rare books dealers called me, he has something he thought I'd be interested in, so I've gone to Oxford for the day. I'll be home tonight._  
_Yours truly,_  
_Aziraphale_

He smiled sleepily and stretched out across the whole bed. After a few particularly satisfying cracks and pops, he groggily pulled himself into a sitting position. It was nearly eleven. He slowly pulled himself to his feet, and went to the closet where he found a sticky note; _Have a good day, darling!_

He chuckled and got dressed. In the kitchen he pulled a note off the coffee maker; _I miss you already, dearest!_ He smiled softly, starting the coffee and pulling himself onto the counter to wait. Minutes later, coffee cup in hand, he made his way to the living room. The coffee table had another note; _XOXO_

He laughed softly. Never, in his six milenia, would he ever have thought Aziraphale would use 'XOXO'. He set the note aside and watched the news while he slowly woke up. When he felt a little more present in his own head, he mulled over his options for his day. He could always go out and cause a bit of mischief, but without any status reports to fill out there wasn't much point. Shopping didn't much interest him, and the park was only ever interesting for how much Aziraphale enjoyed it.

With no other ideas, he decided to see about making some space for his plants. He moved around the flat, looking for a space Aziraphale wouldn't miss. Just about every room had bookshelves quite nearly overflowing. Not ideal for watering plants around. And he felt he'd prefer a bit of privacy to shout at them. In each room he found another note from the angel, reminding him of his love for the demon. He began to collect them as he moved around. 

Eventually, he decided his best bet was to put a balcony on the flat. He knew they were supposed to limit their miracles, to keep their ex-bosses off their backs, but they didn't say they wouldn't do any miracles. And if there was ever a good time to test whether or not they'd actually be left alone, it was when Aziraphale was out of the potential harm's way.

Moments later, a door appeared on the wall, leading to a staircase to the roof. Another quick miracle, and his plants were arranged on the roof, some of the needier ones in a large greenhouse. He paused and looked around, waiting for some demonic interference. When none was forthcoming, he smirked and finished arranging the roof how he wanted it, using another miracle to make some comfortable sitting space for Aziraphale to read outside.

He spent the next few hours tending to the plants, and shouting at the ones who had fallen below his standards. When he made his way back inside, he turned on some music, finding yet another note in the record sleeve. He laughed softly, adding it to the pile.

It didn't take long before he became restless. He threw on his coat to walk around the block, hoping to find something interesting to do for a few hours. He wandered through the shops, looking for something, anything, to occupy his afternoon. He eventually found himself in an Asian Market, and began browsing through the snacks. Aziraphale always loved finding new treats, so he grabbed a few things for him.

He turned to look through their Japanese soda selection, but before he could take more than a few steps, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt the treats in his hands slip from his fingers. The sound as they hit the floor was muffled by the blood in his ears, and he turned, bolting through the crowded aisles to escape to the street. He bumped into a few people, but didn't stop. He had to get out. He had to get home … he had to vomit.

The next thing he was aware of was the sound of the bell above the bookshop door, and the lock slamming into place. He threw himself up the stairs, slamming the door behind him and locking that as well. Only once he reached the bedroom did he feel the nausea subside. He sat on the bed, back to the headboard, knees pulled against his chest. He sat like that, trying to control his corporeal body, until he heard the door to the flat unlock.

He snapped his fingers, and in an instant he was sprawled across the couch in the living room. He smiled as Aziraphale slipped inside, a large, old book in his hands.

"Hello darling! You simply will not believe what my contact dug up!" He leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Crowley smiled, cupping his cheek, while Aziraphale excitedly went on about the ancient bible he'd bought.

"A productive day then?" Crowley smiled, kissing him softly. "Let's celebrate. Dinner at the Ritz? I do believe our table is available for us tonight."

Aziraphale blinked a few times. "Dearest, you didn't? … I thought we agreed, it wasn't safe …"

"I decided to test that, just a bit, while you were out. I think the old bosses are determined to stay out of our way." He smiled. "Come on angel, let me treat you."

Aziraphale grinned, kissing his cheek. "Let me just find a proper place for this." He ran off to the study, setting the book aside before getting changed for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's read this, left kudos, and commented! You all make my day! And as always, huge thanks to Katie!


	10. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience! It's been a hectic few weeks, but chapter ten is here, and eleven is well on its way!

Crowley was sprawled across the couch in Aziraphale's office, watching him as he examined his newest acquisition. He knew Aziraphale could be impossible to distract when he really got engrossed in a book, but he was feeling so awfully cooped up. A small smirk slipped across his face as he looked at the ceiling, musing; "We ought to do something. If you're not planning on opening, yeah?"

Aziraphale looked up from the book he was working with. "What would you like to do?"

"We should go out. Go to the park, or for a drive, or visit the beach. Anything." He turned to look at Aziraphale. "Think if we went to the beach I could convince you to wear a swimsuit from this century at least?"

"The swimwear I wear is perfectly acceptable, thank you." The angel chuckled.

"Come on angel, let me update this one aspect of your wardrobe. I promise I won't put you in a Speedo." He smirked more at Aziraphale's disturbed look.

"You most certainly will not!" Crowley couldn't help but laugh.

"I promise. Just a tiny little update." He held his thumb and pointer finger up to show him.

Aziraphale chuckled softly, "well, the beach does sound nice … but I want a top, and bottoms at least to my knees."

Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically, but grinned despite himself. "Your wish is my command."

Crowley got ahold of some suitably long swim trunks and a swim shirt for Aziraphale, and the angel packed up a picnic. They got in the car, and started their drive toward the beach. Aziraphale spent the entire trip clinging to the seat, but didn't protest the way Crowley drove. It was slower than he usually liked to go, but the angel still found himself flinging around in his seat. Soon enough though, they were hurtling into a parking spot at the beach.

Aziraphale stumbled out of the car, sighing softly. He loved the smell of the sea. Crowley chuckled, watching him take it all in. The look on his face was so peaceful, he would do anything to see it as often as possible.

"Ah, shall we, dear?" Crowley snapped out of his trance and offered him his hand, taking the picnic basket from him.

Aziraphale laid the blanket out on the sand, only allowing Crowley to sit when he deemed it perfect. The demon chuckled, opening the basket. They leaned against each other, nibbling on their lunch.

It was a lazy sort of day. They sat on the beach, played in the waves, and walked the promenade. Late in the afternoon, Crowley led the angel to the pier. They bought some snacks -ok, Aziraphale bought snacks- and wandered past rides and through the stalls of games. Crowley grinned, leading him over to a game booth. A seemingly simple game with ping pong balls and small cups. But, as with all carnival style games, it was harder than it looked, and it took him ten tries to win a large stuffed bear. Aziraphale beamed, pink cheeked as the demon held it out to him. He hugged the stuffed animal to his chest for the rest of the day, holding Crowley's hand tightly in his. Crowley would never say it of course, but he kind of liked seeing Aziraphale so enamoured with something he'd given him.

Back at home, Aziraphale moved some of his more prized knick knacks off a shelf above his desk, making room for the bear - who of course knew better than to topple, despite gravity's suggestion. Aziraphale grinned at the sight, giving a small nod before pulling Crowley into a tight hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to Katie for being so encouraging, and thanks to all of you for reading, commenting, and for the kudos!


	11. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'm sorry the last chapter took so long to come out, this is why. I wanted to have at least some of this chapter completed before I posted the last one, and I knew it was going to be a long one, and I would need a lot of help editing. But here it is! It's super long (by previous chapter standards), so hopefully that makes up for how long it took. Hope you all enjoy!

Sunday morning rolled around, and Crowley knew almost immediately that he was going to have a rough morning. He felt so … overwhelmed. Everything was going too well, it was only a matter of time before it all collapsed around him. Aziraphale was so perfect, so wonderful. Rationally, he knew that the doubt creeping in would go away, that it was a liar. But it became so much, so quickly…

He clenched his jaw, looking up at the ceiling. He forced himself to take deep, slow breaths, trying to push the feelings away. He only managed a few breaths before the doubt was joined by the dread he always felt right before a panic attack. 

Before he could reason his way out of it, everything went blank in his mind. He felt like someone had dropped a bookshelf on his chest, leaving him breathless. Not that he needed to breath, but it was always disturbing to find himself incapable of the choice. His mind filled with echoing hisses of voices; _'You don't deserve all this. He's going to see that soon. Can't you do better? Sssnake. He's going to leave. You're a fraud. You're evil, irredeemable. Fallen. He's going to see it. He's going to leave you. What did you ever do for him? Ssnake. Be better. Unworthy. Unlovable. He's going to leave. He hates you. Evil. You don't deserve him.'_

He growled, clutching his head. "Shut up … shut up… " He muttered through clenched teeth.

"Sorry dear, I didn't mean to wake you." Aziraphale's voice broke through the hissing in his brain. Crowley's head snapped up to look at him, sitting in his armchair across the room.

"O- oh. No, you're fine, Angel … Just a dream."

Aziraphale set his book aside and sat next to him on the bed. "Would you like to talk about it?" Crowley shook his head, awkwardly wrapping his arms around the angel's waist. He sighed softly, tilting his head into Aziraphale's gentle fingers.

"... You're so good to me…"

Aziraphale smiled and kissed his forehead. "You deserve all the love in the world~"

"No, I don't." he frowned, curling up. Aziraphale gently cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up a bit.

"Darling, you absolutely do." Crowley simply sighed, letting the angel push him back and snuggle into his chest.

They lay there for a few minutes before Aziraphale tilted his head up to whisper against his ear; "I know you have trouble believing it, but you are so wonderful, so perfect for me … I know someone along the way convinced you that you weren't, but you are. It … it breaks my heart that you've spent so long believing that you didn't deserve love. If I had realized, I …"

"I- it's fine, Angel." Crowley whispered, stroking his chest gently. Aziraphale kissed his forehead gently.

"Still, I want you to know, without a shadow of a doubt, how much I love you … since we … well, since we named this thing, I've been trying to show you just how important you are to me." Aziraphale's whispers were leaving goosebumps along his neck.

"Y- yess, I noticcced."

"Well, I … I've been thinking about something I'd like to do, if you'd like … but I don't want to push you for anything you're not ready for." 

Crowley hummed softly. "T- tell me."

Aziraphale kissed his ear softly, nipping at the soft skin of the earlobe as he whispered; "I was thinking we could spend today, o- or another day, if you're not ready, ... in bed …"

Crowley gasped softly, shuddering a bit. "In … in bed? Y- you mean …"

"I mean … I've loved you for centuries, millennia … and, unless you'd rather we not … I want to make you feel things you’ve never even imagined. Only if you're ready; if you think you would enjoy it, of course."

Crowley was flabbergasted. Aziraphale was actually suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. And hearing him sound so confident about the whole thing … It was oddly erotic to the demon. And then he registered the last part; if you're ready. That was not something he was prepared to hear. Nothing in his experience suggested that that was something people said in this sort of situation. Usually people just took what they wanted from him… 

He blinked repeatedly, unsure how to respond. Tiny scales began flickering across his chest and neck as he tried to process what he'd said, and considered how to respond. Aziraphale immediately noticed the change in texture under his hand, and gently kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to upset you, dear. Just think about it, and if you ever want to … I'll give you anything you wish." He purred, kissed his cheek and sitting up. Crowley flushed and cupped his cheek.

"No, … No, I …" Aziraphale smiled, giving him a curious, gentle look. "I just … no one's ever asked, c- caught me by surprise, but I… I think I'd like to…" Crowley blushed brightly.

“Only if you’re sure, my love~” Aziraphale cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. "I want to make you happy, whatever that means; we don't ever have to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

Crowley smiled a little and kissed back, hesitantly wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him to lay beside him. “I’m sure … I … I want you. I've wanted you for so long...”

Aziraphale flushed and smiled softly, kissing him deeply. Crowley shivered a bit. They kissed for a while before he realized that Aziraphale wasn’t going to move forward until he did something to indicate that he was ready. He kissed down the angel’s neck while he slowly unbuttoned Aziraphale’s sleep shirt. His fingers ghosted across his soft chest, kissing his collarbone as he pushed the shirt off.

Aziraphale moaned softly, head tilted up to give Crowley better access to his neck. He squirmed a bit under his demonic lover's touch; his face burned at the attention he was receiving. He squirmed a bit as Crowley kissed lower and lower.

“So beautiful~ And all mine~” He whispered against the angel's stomach.

Aziraphale blushed brightly, shivering a bit. He shyly tugged on Crowley's shirt, pulling him up and into a kiss. Crowley moaned softly, threading his fingers through the angel's fluffy hair. Aziraphale shuddered, pushing Crowley's shirt back over his shoulders, who squirmed out of the restrictive clothes. Quickly, they were tugging at each others pants, stripping their lover feverishly. 

“D- Did you want to … which way… ?” Crowley’s face and neck nearly matched his flaming hair, and he looked awkwardly off to the side. 

“Whichever way you like, my dear.~” Aziraphale kissed along his jaw, eliciting a soft moan from the demon. Crowley considered for a moment before laying on his back, pulling Aziraphale over him. He looked up at the angel with such trust, the angel nearly gasped at the sight. Crowley had never allowed anyone to see him so vulnerable, and Aziraphale knew it. He stroked down his chest, leaving kisses in his wake as he fluttered down his lover’s body. Crowley bit his lower lip, trying to hold back a moan.

Aziraphale looked up at his face and whispered reverently; “Dearest, I want to hear you. Please?~” Crowley gasped softly, whimpering.

Aziraphale watched his eyes as he slowly lowered his mouth to Crowley’s cock. The resulting moan sent tingles straight to his own, and he hummed softly around it. Crowley’s hips quickly developed a mind of their own, desperately seeking more of Aziraphale’s warmth. The angel stroked his hips, pressing closer and sucking hard.

Much too soon, Crowley could feel himself nearing his end. “A- ah, Angel … s- ssstop.” Aziraphale released him, stroking his hips.

“Too much, my love?”

Crowley shook his head, gasping softly. “I … I didn’t want to … I want to finish together…” he bit his lower lip, he looked up at him hesitantly. He felt a bit silly, like a girl in one of those romance novels neither being would ever admit to having read.

Aziraphale blushed brightly and smiled, kissing his neck. “Anything you'd like, dear boy~”

Crowley squirmed, blushing more. The angel stroked his hips before miracling up some lube and gently pushing a finger inside him. He gasped, shivering a bit at the cold fluid.

"F- Frivolous miracles, … thought you were still worried about that..." He shuddered under the angel's gentle hands as he slowly stretched him.

"Making sure you're comfortable is the farthest thing from frivolous, my love.~" Aziraphale whispered, kissing his jaw. He wrapped his hand around Crowley's cock, pumping him slowly as he curled his finger inside him. Crowley gasped and whimpered, gripping Aziraphale's shoulders as he slipped a second finger inside. His spine arched so sharply he looked nearly snapped in half as Aziraphale continued to lavish attention on his trembling body.

Soon enough, Crowley was writhing under the angel, begging incoherently for him to speed it along. Aziraphale gently slid his fingers out, kissing his jaw softly. He waited for Crowley to come down a bit before he stroked down his chest.

"Ready?~" Crowley growled softly at his gentle purr.

"For the love of _everything_, fuck me Angel!" He gripped Aziraphale's hips and pulled him roughly toward himself.

Aziraphale groaned softly as their cocks rubbed together. "You make it sound so crass." he smirked a bit, gently pushing into him. "This isn't just fucking you know.~ I love you."

Crowley gasped, shuddering. He bit his lower lip, looking off to the side sheepishly.

"I… I know… I love you too, Aziraphale. Y- you know that, right?"

The Angel gently cupped his cheek, making him turn back toward him, and kissed him softly. "Yes, I know, my dear.~"

Aziraphale kissed along his neck, stroking his hips. Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushed inside. Crowley gripped his sides to pull him closer, claw-like nails digging into his skin just a bit. Aziraphale slid a hand under his back, holding him against his body. They were still, save for their breathing, pressed together. Crowley moaned softly, clinging to him.

"A- Angel, come on! Move!" Aziraphale smirked slightly, thrusting slow and deep.

Crowley flushed bright red, a soft whimper escaped his lips. He shuddered, clinging to him. "A- ahh … Aziraphale!"

The angel kissed along his neck, licking the scales that rose under his touch. He purred into the demon's ear, whispering his praises; "My love~ so good, so wonderful~ and all mine~"

Crowley's hips pressed up against Aziraphale, seemingly of their own accord. "A- Angel …. I … I'm not…"

"Shhh." Aziraphale gently bit his neck, pulling him closer. "None of that now~ You are so incredibly good, and beautiful, and strong, and I love you~"

Crowley whimpered softly, looking up at him. "I … O- ok." He shakily nodded. "I … I love you too.~"

Aziraphale grinned, kissing him hard. He continued to whisper to Crowley, telling him how good he was, and how much he loved him. Crowley was quickly coming undone under him, and he loved it.

"P- please … Angel, d- don't stop, I … I'm so …" He gasped softly. Aziraphale moaned and kissed him deeply.

"Me too!" He buried his face into Crowley's neck, thrusting erratically. With one final "beautiful~" whispered against the curve of his jaw, the demon cried out, releasing between their stomachs. Moments later, Aziraphale came deep inside him, pulling him into a deep kiss.

They lay on their sides together, panting hard, just looking into each other's eyes. Crowley flushed, resisting the urge to grab his sunglasses off the nightstand. Instead, he closed his eyes and squirmed closer, burying his face into Aziraphale's chest. The angel wrapped his arms around him, stroking his hair gently as he curled into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Katie has been super helpful, and this time I also want to thank my friend Bella for being my editor on this chapter.


	12. After Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! So sorry about that break! I was participating in a December Ficlets challenge, and this kind of went to the side, but we are back! As always, huge thanks to my inspiration, my best friend, and my biggest supporter; Katie!

"Darling?" Aziraphale whispered, running his fingers through his demonic lover's hair. Crowley hummed softly in response. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure Angel, what is it?"

"You weren't entirely expecting me to ask what you wanted earlier, were you?"

Crowley blinked a bit and bit his lower lip. "... That … was a bit surprising, yeah."

"I thought so…" Aziraphale nodded, frowning softly. Crowley glanced up at him before pressing into his chest.

"I'm sorry?" Crowley mumbled. "I … I can do better, I promise…"

Aziraphale frowned. "What? No, no dearest. That's not … I didn't mean that at all dearest." He kissed him softly, stroking his cheek; "I simply don't want you to feel like you can't say no to me, or like what you want doesn't matter. And I … I don't want to hurt you. I've been doing some research -"

"Of course you have." Crowley chuckled softly.

"Yes, well … everything I've read indicates that there could be some unexpected … results of what you went through."

"I know."

"And I want to be able to help you through anything that comes up."

"I know that too." Crowley snuggled into his chest. "And you didn't hurt me, I promise. So, you can relax, ok?"

Aziraphale chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. "Alright, well … if anything ever comes up, you'll let me know?"

Crowley nodded. "I … I'm glad you wanted to … you know … I've never wanted to do this with anyone else…" He blushed brightly.

"Me either, dear."

Crowley grinned, kissing him softly. "C'mon, let's get breakfast." He got up quickly, pulling on some pants.

"What? That was rather quick, darling." Aziraphale chuckled, standing behind him. He rested his chin on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his hips. "Don't you want to cuddle me?~"

Crowley blushed and smiled bashfully. "I … yeah, sure." He giggled softly, letting the angel pull him back onto the bed. "No one's ever wanted me to stay in bed with them after … Besides, I know how much you like breakfast."

Aziraphale blinked, "Well, I'll always want you to stay." He cupped his cheek gently, smiling softly. "And I like snuggling you much more than I like breakfast."

Crowley smiled, tearing up a little. "O- okay."

"Oh, sweetheart, are those happy tears, or overwhelmed tears?" Aziraphale stroked his cheek gently, brushing the tears away. 

"I'm … not sure." Crowley sniffled.

"What can I do? How can I help sweetheart?"

Crowley took a deep, shuddering breath. "... J- just … be patient with me, I guess? … This … this is all so different."

"Of course, darling." Aziraphale kissed him softly, stroking his hair.

They curled up for a while, eventually moving to the couch. Aziraphale nibbled on a danish while Crowley played with his hair.

"Darling?" Aziraphale looked down at him, biting his lower lip gently. Crowley looked up, humming softly. "I've been thinking about it, and I think … well, talking about bad things that have happened seems to help most people, and … I just want you to know you can tell me anything, if you want to. If there's anything you need from me, or don't want me to do, I want to know. But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Crowley frowned and nodded, thinking about it. "... I've never really talked about it before. I … I guess … well, I never really paid attention during, I didn't even really pay attention to who they were, I was just assigned marks. So I don't really know if there's anything I would want you to avoid. I always got really drunk after."

"Alone?"

Crowley paused; "Usually I ended up stumbling over here before dawn. But I did do most of the drinking alone."

Aziraphale frowned. "I … you came over already drunk quite a bit …"

"It wasn't every time. Sometimes I was celebrating, or just bored."

"I see … was this … I mean, are they already … Downstairs?"

Crowley frowned. "... Many of them are."

"But some are still … here? In London?"

"S- some of them … kind of all over the place."

Aziraphale nodded, stroking his hair gently. If he was being honest, he kind of hated the idea of these people walking around living their lives; they probably had no idea what they had been a part of, and how dare they be living perfectly content lives when his Crowley was so hurt by it? And how _dare_ his bosses down below make him do things like that??? He hated it, and he hated feeling like this. And if he ever met any of those people … he didn't know what he would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Your support means so much to me!


	13. Surprise

Weeks passed, and life developed a new pattern. Crowley now lived almost full time at the bookshop. He regularly woke up next to Aziraphale reading in bed. They would make breakfast together, which Aziraphale liked to refer to as 'delightfully domestic', and most days Aziraphale would open the store for a few hours. Every afternoon, he closed back up for a long lunch, and sometimes he would reopen after. Crowley spent many such afternoons on his own, making low grade mischief or wandering around London. And sometimes, he spent the afternoon in his flat, which was mostly storage at this point. Usually some small thing or another would find its way home with him.

Weekends quickly became 'our time' in Crowley's mind. Aziraphale stopped opening the shop on weekends at all, to no one's surprise. Crowley took this time to find interesting things to take his angel to, and Aziraphale found a new restaurant to try every week. During one such weekend, they went for a walk around the park after lunch. It was a lovely afternoon, bright and warm, and the park was a tad busy. They were taking a final meandering lap around the park when Crowley froze. Aziraphale stopped walking a moment later, turning toward him.

"Crowley?" He frowned, looking the direction his friend was staring. But all he saw was a perfectly ordinary lake, perfectly ordinary ducks, and perfectly ordinary people enjoying the park.

Crowley snatched his hand and pulled him back the direction they came. Aziraphale frowned, stumbling to keep up.

"Crowley! Crowley, whatever is the matter?" The demon just shook his head, pulling him along.

"... J- just thought of something! We're late for … your surprise."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow; "Surprise? What surprise?"

"Well if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise. Now would it?"

Aziraphale chuckled and let the demon pull him along. Eventually, Crowley stopped in front of a playhouse. Aziraphale smiled softly, looking up at it.

"We're going to a play?"

Crowley nodded once, pulling him inside. It was a lovely evening, but Aziraphale couldn't help but wonder about how Crowley had acted in the park.

The next weekend, Crowley didn't want to leave the flat at all. He made Aziraphale breakfast, cuddled him on the couch, even offered to cook. The week after it was the same story. All week, Crowley flat out refused to leave the bookshop; at one point he even claimed to be tired but never took a nap, and Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit caged in.

"Darling, as happy as I am to have you around, I want to go out. Now, you've been acting oddly since last Saturday, what is it that's bothering you?"

Crowley frowned. "Nothing. Nothing at all. You want to go out? We'll go out … you're rather suspicious, Angel."

Aziraphale flushed and chuckled; "yes, well. It was rather sudden. And we haven't left the shop since."

Crowley shrugged, a very intentional nonchalant look on his face as he offered Aziraphale his hand. "Where do you want to go?"

The angel beamed and took it happily, going on about a few options. Crowley nodded along, only vaguely aware of what Aziraphale was saying. Something about lunch; sure, that was fine. "Anything you want, Angel."

They made their way toward Aziraphale's chosen restaurant. Crowley pulled his chair out for him and sat across the table. He was barely paying attention the whole meal, simply focused on the table.

“Crowley, are you even listening to me?” Aziraphale scolded sharply. Crowley looked up at him, snapping into focus. “You haven’t even touched your wine. Are you quite alright?”

_‘Wine?’_ Crowley looked at the table, and saw his full wine glass. _‘When did that get there?’_ He frowned. “... I’m sorry, Angel. I’m just not feeling myself lately.”

“Why, dearest? Please, talk to me. … I … I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing, Angel. Nothing’s going on.” His eyes narrowed; “Just drop it, ok?”

“But Crowley, I -”

“Aziraphale. Drop. It.” He glared. Aziraphale made a face Crowley had never seen on him before. He was hurt. Crowley sighed and took a deep breath; “I’m sorry, Angel … I … you can’t help. So … Just let it be. Alright?”

Aziraphale frowned and nodded. He looked like someone had kicked his puppy. Not being able to help was an entirely unfamiliar concept to any angel, but he was probably the only one who would care so much. They ate quietly and walked back to the shop. About halfway there, a sweet voice called out from behind them;

“James, darling. Long time, no see.” Aziraphale turned to face the young lady standing behind them. Crowley did not.

“Um … Hello. Can I … Help you?” Aziraphale contemplated the woman’s appearance. She certainly didn’t look the sort to know Crowley, or any demons for that matter. She seemed like a perfectly sweet girl. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and she had a sweet smile on her face. The only problem was that it didn’t even approach her eyes. Something about this combination was rather unsettling.

She turned her cold eyes on the angel. “I suppose you’re his newest conquest, huh?” She chuckled viciously; “don’t get attached.”

Crowley hadn’t turned toward her yet. In fact, he didn’t look like he intended to turn around ever again. He had completely stopped breathing; he looked like a statue. “... Aren’t you going to say hi, James? I’m talking to you.”

Aziraphale frowned; “... Well, clearly he doesn’t want to talk to you. So … we’ll just be on our way. Good evening, miss …?”

“Ava.” She smirked; “perhaps he told you about me.”

“No, I can’t say that he has. Good evening, Ava.” He turned on his heel and took Crowley’s hand, leading him home. He could almost hear her indignation as they stormed down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to all of you for being so patient with me! It's been a hectic few weeks, but here it is! And as always, my gratitude and loves goes out to Katie for all her support in my creative endeavors!


	14. Shattered Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute, huh? Sorry for the massive delay, life has been ... weird. But here it is, hope it's worth the long wait! Thanks for waiting and for all your support!

"James, darling. Long time, no see." Ava's voice was like a cat's purr in Crowley's ears. Her sweet voice, the voice she used for the outside world, the voice that convinced people that she was so innocent and kind. But he could hear the feral growl underneath; a sound in the back of his mind that stopped him in his tracks.

He couldn’t breath. She was here. Really here this time, not a dream or a figment of his imagination. She was standing right there. If she reached out she could grab them. She was talking to Aziraphale. He was vaguely aware of what she was saying, but he couldn’t bring himself to respond. He wanted to scream. How dare she call Aziraphale a ‘conquest”? How dare she even suggest that he would ever hurt his Angel? He wanted to shout, to demand that she leave them alone, but he couldn’t. He could only imagine what Aziraphale must be thinking. Suddenly he was being pulled away. It took everything in him to follow. He thought he was going to discorporate.

Aziraphale gently tugged on his arm, leading him down the street. They turned a corner and he snapped his fingers, bringing them instantly to their doorstep. Crowley blinked as the angel helped him to the couch, slowly sitting beside him. “Crowley? Darling, can you hear me? Just take a breath for me.”

Crowley slowly came back into himself, finally breathing again and leaning into Aziraphale. The angel ran his fingers through the demon’s hair, kissing his temple. “I’m here, my love. I’ve got you.”

He took a slow, careful breath. 'We're home, it's fine.' He kept thinking, hoping he'd be able to convince himself. 'We're home, and she's gone…'

He hesitantly looked up at Aziraphale, almost afraid of what he would find there. The concern on his angel's face was worse than anything he could have imagined, and he burst into tears. Aziraphale pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his back and peppering his face with kisses. The demon just cried harder.

Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley's hair, snuggling him protectively. Crowley was saying something in the midst of his tears, but Aziraphale couldn't make it out. 

He gently cupped his cheeks, using just a little miracle to help Crowley breath. Eventually, Crowley was able to sob out; “I- I’m so sorry …. A- Angel, I … I didn’t want …”

“Shh, shhh, you didn’t do anything wrong darling. I’m here, I’ve got you.” Aziraphale gently pulled him into his lap, kissing his forehead. Crowley clung to his angel, his sobs slowly receding. 

"I … I didn't think she'd do anything … I didn't think she'd talk to us…" he whispered.

Aziraphale shifted slightly, frowning. "Darling … who is she?"

Crowley sniffled softly. "She was … an assignment … a few years ago, from the bosses downstairs." He took a deep breath, "She was so … innocent. Before…"

Aziraphale frowned and held him close. "Did she … hurt you?"

"We … we broke her, Angel! Everything was going according to plan, but that stupid incubus pushed her too far, a- and then she just snapped, a- and …" he shuddered, sniffling. "I was the only one left up here … fucking bastard had gone back downstairs … and …"

"They left you … to pick up the pieces, and … and to deal with the consequences of their actions." Aziraphale whispered, his horror and rage slipping into his voice.

Crowley shuddered; "I'm sorry … i'm so sorry…"

Aziraphale pulled him closer, clenching his jaw. He knew they had mistreated Crowley. They were demons, what else could he expect. And more than that the bosses, no matter what side they were on, never seemed particularly pleasant. He knew they were cruel, but it had never occurred to him that they would leave Crowley alone to fix their problems. And he had never been confronted with just how much they could damage someone. Somehow, Crowley had always kept him away from the worst of it.

"Crowley, maybe … maybe you should talk to someone …"

Crowley scoffed; "like a therapist? That'd go over well." He put on a pompous voice; 'Tell me about your childhood, Crowley.' 'Well, I was kicked out of heaven for talking to my own brothers, then I was turned into a snake and made to go cause trouble.' How far into that conversation do you think we'd get before I'd have to wipe that poor fuckers memory of the whole thing?"

"Well you don't necessarily have to get into specifics like that, … I just think it would help you, Crowley."

"Well I don't, so drop it." He snapped.

Aziraphale frowned; "Crowley, this is clearly affecting you …"

"Just drop it, Angel!" Crowley bolted up, pacing. His pupils were narrowing and scales were emerging on his neck.

"Just stop! You can't help, you can't fix it! You can't fix me, Aziraphale!" He growled, running for the door.

"Crowley, please!" Aziraphale stood, following him. "I just want to…" 

The door slammed in front of his face, shaking the whole building. A picture frame fell to the floor beside him, shattering. "... help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here, thanks for reading!


	15. Alone

“Hey, this is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style. _Beep_.”

…

“Hey, this is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style. _Beep_.”

…

“Hey, this is Anthony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style. _Beep_.”

...

Aziraphale was getting frustrated. After their little spat, he had thought Crowley just needed a little time to cool off. That he would come home the next morning. But it had been nearly a week and there was still no sign of him. He filled Crowley’s voicemail with messages, begging him to just pick up and talk to him. He tried dropping by, but there was no answer at the door. He walked around town, stopping at all the places he knew the demon liked to visit, but never saw or felt so much as a trace of him.

He knew in his heart that he wasn't wrong to want to help Crowley, but he was starting to wonder if he could have been a little gentler. It was a rather delicate topic after all. Or maybe he should have been firmer. Crowley doesn’t like to face things head on, perhaps he should have insisted. He wished that he had followed the demon out that night. Maybe things would be different if he had. All he knew for sure was that Crowley was avoiding him, and he didn't like it one bit.

He found himself walking around town again, hoping desperately to bump into the demon, but his luck had not changed in the past day. He felt so empty, listless even, without his companion around. Hours passed, and eventually he wandered through the park. The ducks were a welcome distraction for a few minutes, but it was so unbearably lonely without Crowley. They had always visited the ducks together, and it seemed wrong somehow to be there alone. He made his way home and tried to busy himself at his desk. Perhaps one of his old texts could use some attention… 

Mere moments after he sat at his desk with an ancient volume in front of him, his phone’s ringing burst through the room. He immediately leapt out of his seat and fumbled for it; "Crowley?"

"Um, no. Mr. Fell, this is Anathema Device? We met at Tadfield Airbase when the world didn't end." Aziraphale sighed softly, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

"Oh, yes I remember. What can I do for you, dear?"

"Well, I … received a new book of prophecy." She chuckled ruefully; "Agnes really knew what she was doing... Anyway, I was going through the book, and saw a few things, and … I was just wondering if you've noticed anything out of the ordinary in London?"

"A new book?" He perked up a bit. Even as upset as he was, that was exciting "Yes, she was rather clever wasn't she? Ah, … well, Crowley has been avoiding me for a few days, so I haven't really …"

"Oh..." She frowned, flipping through the book.

"I … I hate to be a bother, but … I don't suppose you could help me find him? Perhaps that new book would have some clues..."

"Oh, yeah. That would … and that could be … yes, definitely. Happy to help. Why don't you come over? I'm still at Jasmine Cottage."

Aziraphale smiled warmly. "Oh, thank you dear! I'll be there by tonight!"

Anathema nodded; "sounds great, see you then …" She hung up and immediately began writing notes on one of the new prophecies.

Aziraphale took a deep calming breath, smiling softly. He took a moment to straighten himself up before he headed down to the bus station. Everything was going to be fine, he just had to get to Jasmine Cottage, and they would find Crowley, no problem at all! And he was terribly excited to see this book of hers! Agnes had been so clever, he was thrilled to see what she might have to say about all this. After all, a demon missing on earth had to cause some kind of stir in the cosmic ether.

When he finally arrived in Tadfield, he had to remind himself to remain composed. He straightened his waistcoat and began the walk to Jasmine Cottage. He rather hoped Anathema would have tea, or some nice finger sandwiches perhaps. He knocked crisply, looking around the front yard. He hadn’t had time to notice the lovely garden last time he was here.

Anathema had been nose deep in the new book when the angel on her doorstep interrupted her train of thought. She straightened up and made her way to the door, smiling softly. “Ah, Mr. Fell, welcome!”

She moved to show him to the book. “When you said your friend, Mr. Crowley was avoiding you, I went back and reread a few of the new prophecies. … Here it is; ‘A pair ripp’d in twayne, and both art lost. Wh’re nay angel n’r demon hath step they shall beest found again, lest darkness claimeth all ‘round them.’”

Aziraphale looked over her shoulder at the book. It was nearly identical to the last. He put his reading glasses on and whispered the prophecy to himself. “... Remarkable. ‘A pair ripped in twain, and both art lost.’ Well, if that doesn’t describe our current predicament to a tee…”

She nodded. “I thought so as well. And the next part here, ‘Where nay angel nor demon hath step they shall beest found again’. I didn’t think there was anywhere like that, but … Well, you would know better than I would.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, quite right. … Well, there are a few places that escaped our attention… Smaller towns, bits of countryside here and there…” 

Anathema pulled out a large map and a pen. “Obviously England is out….” She put a large X through the island nation.

“Mh, yes, the whole of the United Kingdom has been rather … well attended to… North America as well…” They went through the whole map, methodically. Aziraphale circled areas he and Crowley had never been sent to, until all that was left was a small list of small countries.

“So, unless he’s gone underground, or to Atlantis, we’re down to New Zealand, parts of Micronesia, Liechtenstein, Madagascar, and Seychelles. Right?” Anathema looked up at him.

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, quite right. Unless another angel or demon has visited those countries, but … at least on my side, we had very few visitors.”

Anathema began rifling through her tools. A pendulum,, a mortar and pestle, and a cauldron made their way onto the table. She began pouring ingredients into the mortar, muttering to herself;

“Anise for protection, bergamot for clarity, yes. … black hellebore to make contact … Comfrey for safe travel … saffron to fortify the passage.” She ground the herbs together, humming to herself. When she was satisfied, she poured it all into the cauldron. She added dirt into the mixture and stirred it in. “Holy land and holy water …stir it with a cinnamon stick, and cook it with hell fire…” She dropped what appeared to be a black ember into the mix, and it sizzled and hissed.

Aziraphale coughed; “H- how exactly did you get ahold of something like that?”

“My family has been gathering ethereal and occult spell ingredients for centuries.” She smiled.

“I see …”

She used the warm paste to mark her arms and forehead with sigils she’d been taught to draw since she was a child. And then, she took her pendulum, and closed her eyes. Aziraphale watched as the pendulum began to spin, faster and faster until suddenly it flew out of her hand, landing on the map. She opened her eyes, looking down at the pendulum.

“Alright. Liechtenstein it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to all of you for reading! Your comments make my heart sing!  
And all my love to my best friend and editor, Katie!


	16. Ruin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello .... So, I'll be honest, I opened the document for this chapter without writing anything REPEATEDLY. I really wanted to make sure to handle this part of the story appropriately, and it was just really hard to write.
> 
> On that note, I do have to issue a small content warning for this chapter, I tried to be as non-triggering as possible, but there is a little bit of non-consensual contact in this chapter. If you read it and think I should change my archive warning tag, let me know because I wasn't sure if it calls for it or not.
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

"Just stop! You can't help, you can't fix it! You can't fix me, Aziraphale!" Crowley growled, running for the door. He couldn’t breath, he wanted to get out.

"Crowley, please!" Aziraphale stood, following him. "I just want to…" Crowley slammed the door behind him, and he heard glass break on the other side of the wall, but he couldn’t stop himself. He ran down the street, desperate to get away, to escape.

_'Shit. Shit, shit, shit! What the fuck is wrong with me?’_ He’d screamed at Aziraphale. What the hell just happened? He collapsed against a wall, head between his knees. _‘I should apologize … I should turn around, go back, and apologize…’_

He knew he should, he wanted to fix this. He didn’t want to hurt Aziraphale. But he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think! He had go home, to fix this … after a drink. He’d be able to do it after a drink. He shakily got to his feet and walked down the street, easily finding a pub. It was dark, and dingy, and exactly the kind of place you’d expect to find a demon. It was perfect for the mood he was in. The bartender didn’t even glance at him as he threw himself clumsily onto a bar stool.

“Whiskey. A lot of it.” He growled, slamming a credit card on the counter and glaring at the glass bottles across the counter from him. The girl walked over and took the card before she began pouring shots. And continued pouring shots. And didn’t stop until she’d gone through a whole bottle.

“Another.” He growled at the empty glass in front of him.

“You’ve had a bottle, sir. I really think that’s enough.”

“Another.”

“No, I’m gonna have to cut you off. Get out of here.” He was about to snap at her when a melodic voice purred out;

“Oh, come on Krista, one more.” Ava smiled and sat beside him. “And one for me too.”

He stared at his empty glass, clenching his jaw. What the hell was she doing here? Quickly, he realized two things. First, Aziraphale wouldn’t be here to bail him out this time. And secondly, he couldn’t let her see the effect she had on him and hope to get out of here easily. He took a slow, deep breath, and glowered at her. “... Leave me alone.”

“Oh, come on James. Don’t you want another?” She smirked. 

The bartender poured two more shots and walked away to print his bill as Ava took her shot. Crowley glowered and downed his, glaring at her. “... Why are you here?”

“I wanted a drink, and lo and behold, I found exactly the person I wanted to talk to too. Funny how life works, huh?” She smirked.

“I have nothing to say to you.” He growled, standing. She grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer.

“Then just listen. See … I don’t think that friend of yours knows who you really are. The blonde? I think he likes some … watered down, bland version of you that you’ve created to be palatable for him. I’ll admit, he seems sweet. I see the appeal. But wouldn’t you rather be with someone who really knows what you’re like? Who likes it in the dark?” She grinned, a predatory look in her eyes.

“You know nothing. Of me, or him.” He growled lowly; “Now get away from me.”

She laughed softly, tugging him back into his seat. “You and I both know that’s not true. Now be good, and sit with me.”

He growled, but found himself sitting anyway. It was easier to just let her think she had won. It always had been. He could get away later. She smirked, ordering them more drinks. "That's better, isn't it? Let's just sit here, have a few drinks, and relax. Ok?"

He sighed, staring into his glass. He knew that tone; arguing with her in this state never went well. But as usual, she took his silence as an affirmation, and began talking. He barely listened; it had never mattered if he did, she would just keep talking until she got bored. All he had to do was make non-committal, but positive sounds until she walked away. Until then, he'd just keep drinking the alcohol she was ordering him, and focus on what he would say to Aziraphale when he got home.

The drinks did seem to be helping though, he felt better than he had when he'd stormed out. Calmer, lighter. Now he just had to figure out how to get away from this monster.

"So, I should g-"

Ava cleared her throat; "Now, I figure tomorrow you can call that friend of yours, and we'll clear up this little misunderstanding. I'm sure he'll be happy to know you're back with someone who actually understands you."

He gripped his glass so tightly it cracked. His head was spinning, and he couldn't really focus on much, but he knew he didn't like what she'd said. "You really need to shut up, Ava."

She chuckled. "Sure, James. Whatever."

He glared at her, his nails elongating into claws and digging into the bar top. He was so dizzy, and he couldn't really see clearly anymore. Something was wrong… he needed to get home. "... J- just leave me alone, Ava."

"Aw, you don't look so good, sweetie. Let me take care of you." Her voice seemed to be coming from across a long hallway. She smiled predatorily, grabbing his arm as his eyes shut firmly against his will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, but most especially with this chapter, huge thanks to Katie for all her help!


	17. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning! This chapter deals, once again, with non-consensual drug use, and rape. It's not an explicit scene, but if you don't want to read that part, there will be a row of asterisks when we've moved past it.

Crowley groaned softly, blinking awake. His head was pounding, the memory of running from the flat barely hovering on the edges of his mind. He knew he had been drinking, it was obvious; but he couldn't fathom why he hadn't thought to sober up before he was saddled with this blasted hangover. And he couldn’t remember if Aziraphale had forgiven him or not.

He tried to shake the fog out of his head, clearing his throat; “Ugh … Angel?”

"Now James, if you ever call me that again we might start to have problems." Ava smirked, sliding a robe on. Crowley bolted upright, looking up at her.

"Wha- Ava? What the fuck did you do to me? Where the fuck am I?" He looked around frantically. This wasn't his flat, and it wasn't Aziraphale's room above the store. Ava chuckled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Well you obviously needed someone to get you home last night, you wouldn't have made it on your own."

"This is not my home!" He growled, getting out of the unfamiliar bed. He flushed bright red, realizing he was naked, and pulled his clothes on quickly. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

"I took care of you, James. Just like I promised I would."

He shuddered at that, starting to feel a bit nauseous. She smirked, "now let's have breakfast, and then you can call that blond guy and tell him that's over. After all, you're where you belong now."

Crowley groaned softly, trying to purge the rest of the alcohol from his system. But something felt wrong, it was like it was slipping out of his grasp just as he thought he had it. He couldn't breathe right, and his head was still throbbing.

"… You … you drugged me, didn't you?" He glowered at her.

"Oh, don't be such a pansy James. It's not like you and your friends were much better back in the day. The way I see it, you earned this." She shrugged, walking into the kitchen.

Crowley felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He groaned softly, stumbling out of the room and toward the door in a daze. He couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't entirely wrong. The other demons had used worse things when they were toying with her. But still … _'Drugged … seriously, what kind of pathetic demon can't recognize the signs of being drugged? And by a human no less … for fuck's sake, what's wrong with me?'_

"James, get back here." Ava looked over to him, glaring.

Crowley clenched his fists, mustering all of the strength he could grasp; "... No, Ava. Just shut up, and leave me alone. I never want to see you again."

"James, calm down. You'll feel better after some breakfast."

"NO! I'M NOT STAYING HERE WITH YOU, YOU CRAZY BITCH!" he screamed; "I'M GOING HOME, AND YOU WILL NEVER TOUCH ME AGAIN, GOT IT?"

********************************************************************************************************************

Ava frowned, opening her mouth to answer, but Crowley was already slamming the door as he ran out onto the street. He instantly realized that he wasn't entirely sure where he was, or even if he was still in London. Nevertheless, he took off running. Anywhere was better than here. Eventually, he stopped in front of a cafe, and went in to catch his breath.

He'd just sat down with a coffee, hoping to get the lingering taste of last night's whiskey out of his mouth, when his phone rang. He stared at the angel's name on the screen, letting it go to voicemail.

'He'll never forgive me … why didn't I just walk away when that bitch sat down? Why did I stop there at all?' he sighed, downing the coffee. 'I can't go home … I can't tell him …'

He stared into his empty cup for a while, feeling rather nauseous. After a few hours, and another call from Aziraphale, a barista came over.

"You done with that, hun?"

He waved his hand dismissively, gripping the mug tighter; "leave me alone. I'm wallowing."

She cleared her throat awkwardly, shifting. "I'm sorry, but my manager says if you're not gonna order anything else you have to go."

He grunted and rolled his eyes, getting up. "Fine, whatever."

Back on the street, he looked around, unsure where to go. He couldn't go home, even if he knew how to get there. He turned on his heel and started walking, unsure of what he was going to do. After he'd walked to the end of the street, he looked around. Nothing was familiar. But maybe that was good. Better than taking this home with him. He sighed and with a snap of his fingers he disappeared.

The street was unusually empty for a moment, until the air on that street corner seemed to vibrate with energy. If anyone had been looking, they might have seen a momentary burst of light hit the sidewalk as a man in a white suit appeared. He looked around, his lips pulled tight against his teeth and malice in his eyes. He scanned the street, almost impatiently. After a moment, his eyes narrowed and landed on an unnaturally dark corner in the alley.

"I don't like to be kept waiting."

A soft buzzing, almost like a derisive chuckle, filled the air as the darkness started to take shape. THe buzzing became deafening as the form solidified, and receded as someone stepped out of the shadows.

"Keep you waiting? I am zzze one who has been waiting, Gabriel." Zhey smirked, stepping up beside him. "Zzhe traitor hasn't even noticed me following him. He must be quite dizzztrested."

Gabriel chuckled, walking down the road, the small demon training along beside him. "The traitors are what I wanted to talk to you about. They should not have been able to escape their punishment for thwarting the Great Plan. Heaven is abuzz with talk … unacceptable talk. Some have started to question the natural order of the universe."

Beelzebub nodded, zheir eyes narrowing. "It hazz caused trouble for us below too. But what exzzzactly do you recommend we do about it?"

"I'm so glad you asked." Gabriel smirked, a terrible glint in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Katie for helping me finalize this chapter, and to all of you for reading!


	18. Lichtenstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: there is a little bit of victim blaming in this chapter.

Anathema prided herself on being something of an expert on all things occult. She knew more about angels and demons and spells than any of the frauds on television ever so much as claimed to know. But even with her vast array of knowledge, she was not prepared to travel with an angel. Aziraphale wasn’t even entirely sure if she would survive the way he wanted to travel. He’d never taken a human along when he needed to get somewhere in a flash. But Anathema was insistent that she join him, and he was determined to find Crowley, and find him now. Thus, Anathema found herself suddenly and rather unceremoniously in a void. She noted that it almost felt like when you get to the airport and can’t remember if you packed something important, but with the added discomfort of being without air. This feeling shortly preceded the realization that she was not in her body. In the next instant, she began to see her new surroundings, almost through a fog. A quaint little town, nestled into rolling green hills. She was sure it would be pretty, if she could see it any better. Another instant later, she felt as if she was being slammed back into the physical realm as her body joined her consciousness.

“Ah, are you quite alright there?” Aziraphale gently patted her back, helping her maintain her upright position. “Everything back where it goes?”

She nodded, gently flexing her fingers. “Yes, … yes that was … exhilarating.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat and smiled slightly. “Ah, well, excellent then. I was concerned ... pulling a human body through the void … it was risky.”

She smiled. “Well, it worked. So let’s get to work, shall we?” She pulled her dowsing rods and a small black jar out of her bag. When she popped the jar open, Aziraphale wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell. Demon’s blood.

“How in the world did you … never mind.” He shook his head in disbelief as she dipped each rod into the oily black liquid.

“Wise decision.” She smiled, shutting and pocketing the jar. The dowsing rods began spinning in her hands before clapping together facing due east.

“... It’s not … it’s not his blood, is it?” Aziraphale frowned.

“No, no. This blood has been in my family's possession for decades, and the demon in question was sent back to hell shortly after his donation. But it makes the rods point to the closest similar element, which, in theory, should be Crowley.”

He nodded, concerned, but followed the human woman as she confidently walked down the road into town. The sun was setting behind them as they made their way toward a little hotel. As she reached the front door the rods snapped together more firmly, almost like they were suddenly magnetic. Anathema wiped the blood off the rods and slipped them back into her bag with a satisfied nod. Aziraphale sighed and slowly opened the door, revealing a small foyer with a front desk and a large potted plant. The young lady behind the counter smiled softly and greeted them in German. Anathema didn’t understand, but Aziraphale quickly began speaking with the woman, also in German. They approached the table, the pair conversing for a while, until the young woman begrudgingly gestured up the stairs, speaking one last time. Aziraphale nodded, saying something repeatedly - clearly offering his thanks - and led Anathema up the stairs.

“He’s here. Crowley is just upstairs! She said he hasn’t left all week.”

Anathema smiled and nodded. "As I thought. The rods never lie."

Aziraphale nodded, as if in a daze, and reached for the door. "... Perhaps I should go in alone. … Heaven knows what state he'll be in."

Anathema nodded and gestured for him to go inside. She leaned against the wall to wait as the angel cleared his throat, knocking firmly after a short pause.

"Ehh ... Fuck off! I'm … I'm paid up through next week!" Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief at Crowley's voice through the door. He was certainly drunk, but he was there.

With a wave of his hand, the door was unlocked, and he stepped inside the small room. The stale air smelled of whiskey, and dust had settled on the visible surfaces. The only evidence that the room was occupied were the bottles strewn across the floor.

"Crowley?" He stepped into the room, flipping the light on.

"Fucking turn that shit off!" The demon growled from the other side of the bed.

Aziraphale grinned and rushed over to him, kneeling in front of him; "Crowley! I was so worried, dear! Where … why… Why did you leave?"

Crowley blinked up at him, unfolding his spine to sit upright, and groaned sadly. "No … Angel … how did you find me?"

"That lovely Anathema woman, you remember her, the American from Tadfield?"

Crowley growled softly; "Damn witches, knowing shit they shouldn't…"

"Crowley, why did you leave?"

The demon sighed, slumping against the wall. He fumbled for a half empty bottle of whiskey next to the bedside table. "Damn … bottle…"

Aziraphale grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him closer. "Crowley, please! I have been worried sick, why would you run off and not bother to so much as tell me you were ok?!"

Crowley stared at the angel for a moment before his face screwed up in pain, bursting into tears. He flung his arms around the angel's shoulders, pressing his face into his chest. "I … I'm sorry, Angel … I'm so sorry, I did- … I didn't mean to! I swear, I didn't mean to!"

Aziraphale nearly fell backwards with the force of Crowley's sudden desperate hug. He quickly enveloped the demon in a tight hug, kissing his forehead. "What happened, my love? What sent you so far away from me?"

Crowley gasped for breath. This feeling in his chest was worse than Falling. When he told him what had happened, what he'd done, he knew it would all be over. "I … she … I was coming back, I swear. And she … I was just going to get one drink first … and she found me there. … I didn't mean to go home with her, I swear!"

Aziraphale blinked a few times, trying to understand what Crowley was saying. "... Darling … did you … spend the night with that woman who calls you 'James'?"

Crowley sobbed harder, his nails digging into Aziraphale's shoulders. "I'm so sorry!"

Aziraphale frowned. "... Crowley, darling, come here, calm down a little." He stroked his hair, pulling him closer. The pair sat like that, Crowley curled up in Aziraphale's lap, until the demon's sobs had subsided.

"Darling, I know this will be hard, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened." Crowley took a ragged breath before he started. His voice shook, terrified that the angel would push him away at any moment.

"So, you were drunk?"

"... Yes."

"And she drugged you." He nodded, shaking with rage and fear. "... Crowley, how could you possibly think I would blame you for anything that happened that night?"

Crowley blinked up at Aziraphale, not believing what he said. "... What?"

Aziraphale stroked his cheek gently, kissing his forehead. "It wasn't your fault, my love … but, Crowley why did you come here? Why didn't you come home?"

"... I couldn't face you, after what happened … I couldn't bring that home…" he shuddered. "And I … I've never been here, so I … here I can't run into someone who's life I destroyed … I didn't think you would forgive me."

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale cupped his cheek; "there's nothing for me to forgive. You didn't do anything wrong."

Crowley sniffled softly, hugging Aziraphale even tighter. "How are you not furious?"

"Oh, I am. But not at you. I'm furious with that woman who hurt you."

Crowley sniffled softly. "... Even though I made her like that?"

Aziraphale sighed softly. "Humans have free will for a reason, Crowley. And as such, she is responsible for her own actions. She could have sought help after you and those other demons hurt her. But she didn't. She seems to be choosing vengeance instead. That is not your fault."

Crowley took a deep, shuddering breath. "C- can I come home, Angel? I wanna go home…"

Aziraphale smiled softly. "Of course, let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thanks for your patience everyone! As usual, huge thanks to my biggest supporter, Katie!


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